


Coming To His Defense

by Khylara



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Invasion 2001 storyline, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MIchael comes to his lover's defense after his in-ring beatdown during the 8/13/2001 Raw</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming To His Defense

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during/after 8/13/2001 Raw. For those of you who don't remember (or are too young :) WCW/ECW (later named "The Alliance") "invaded" WWF thanks to Shane McMahon "buying" WCW and Stephanie McMahon siding with Paul Heyman (ECW's creator) All the wrestlers took sides, with Tazz (being an ECW Alumni) taking ECW/WCW's and Michael Cole siding with WWF. It made for interesting commentation during Smackdown at the time with them snarking at eachother. In the process of the storyline, Tazz took several onscreen beatdowns. This one was a group effort with Austin starting it and a crowd of WCW/ECW wrestlers finishing him off because Tazz had "screwed Up" and lost his match - he was still wrestling at the time - and Tazz standing up to him.
> 
> This was originally posted on the Tazz-Mikey YahooGroups list August 2001 and later appeared on the now defunct "Not Every Thug Needs A Lady" webside. Part of my continuing effort to salvage my fanfic that has been scattered all over the Internet over the (too many) years I've been doing this. POV is Michael's and Peter is Tazz's real first name.

"Let me go!" I yelled, my voice carrying through the backstage area, causing people to turn their heads and stare. I didn't care; for all it mattered, they could sell tickets. Right now all I wanted to do was break free from the hold my well-meaning friends had on me, run down the ramp to the ring and kick Austin's bionic redneck ass.  
  
I was going to kill him. For laying his paws on my baby like that I was going to rip him apart with my bare hands.  
  
"Damn it, Matt, Jeff, let me go!" I struggled, practically helpless in the Hardys' grasp. They may not look it, but they're strong and more than a match for me. Especially double-team.  
  
"Michael, you can't go down there!" Matt was trying to get through my growing rage while Jeff was holding me back with brute force. "You go charging into that ring and you'll get your ass kicked, too!"  
  
"I don't care!" I glanced at the screen and fought harder. Palumbo and O'Hare had taken over for Raven and Hugh Morris, kicking Peter viciously to the mat. "They're hurting him!"  
  
"You may not care but we do!" Matt yelled back. "And so will he!" He gestured at the screen as Peter was bodyslammed into the mat by one of the Dudleys. "He'd be the first one to tell you to stay put!"  
  
"No." I cringed as Peter was headbutted and left to writhe in the ring. "No...damn it, let me go!" I fought even harder. "Stop this...have to stop this..."  
  
"How?" Matt asked bluntly, wincing as Rhyno gave my baby one of the most brutal gores I had ever seen. "What are you going to do? You can't stop Austin. None of us can."  
  
Because everyone was afraid of him. Austin had become more unpredictable than ever, lashing out at anyone who even looked at him the wrong way. And lately his wife Debra had joined in, encouraging him every step of the way by setting up people like the Hardys and Lita just to make him look good. Even Vince avoided him these days, with good reason.  
  
Peter was face-down in the ring now, being held there by Palumbo, O'Hare and the Dudleys as Austin whipped him with his belt. A moment ago I had been so proud of my baby for standing up to Austin and not submitting to the beating the Alliance's so-called leader had decreed he deserved. Now...now I was hurting for him, because he was being beaten down again, this time for just doing his job.  
  
They were all cheering now, celebrating the fact that Peter was rolling around the ring in agony. I caught a glimpse of his face on the monitor and stopped struggling, my eyes filling with tears. This shouldn't be happening...not to the toughest man I knew...  
  
Not even a week ago Peter had called the Alliance members his family, standing up for them even as I commented on their brutality. Tonight, not one of them had lifted a finger to help him.  
  
"He'll be okay," Jeff said as he slowly released me. I think he knew I wasn't going anywhere now. "You'll see. Tazz is a tough guy."  
  
I nodded, not really listening as I watched the Alliance vacate the ring, leaving him behind. Jeff was right; my baby was tough, but they hadn't just hurt his body, they had beaten down his soul. It would take a lot to help him get over that kind of humiliation, that kind of shame.  
  
He'd have everything I could give him and more.  
  
The sound of one of the production guys calling my name dragged my attention away from the monitor. "Hey, Michael! You have Angle in ten!"  
  
I cursed. The LAST thing I wanted to be doing was a promo with Kurt Angle of all people. How was I going to be able to concentrate on his ankle when my baby had just been beaten half to death in front of my eyes?  
  
I turned to the Hardys. "Can you make sure Peter sees the on-call doc? No matter what he says?" I glanced at the monitor, my heart aching at the sight of Peter staggering out of the ring. "I don't think you'll have any trouble."  
  
Matt nodded. "We'll keep an eye on him until you're done," he promised. "Any of the Alliance guys are gonna have to go through us if they want him."  
  
"Thanks, guys." I was pathetically grateful, but I didn't care. If it kept Peter safe until I got there, then I'd do whatever it took. "Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can." They both nodded and with one last look at the monitor I went to go prepare for Angle's promo.  
  
**  
  
I have never been so grateful for a run-in in my entire life. If it hadn't happened when it did, Angle would probably still be talking.  
  
Not that I could keep my mind on the promo anyway. I was upset and I know it showed, but I didn't care. Every thought I had was solely focused on my baby, praying that he was okay and wondering just what  
I was going to say to him.  
  
The training room was quiet as I came toward it, which in itself was a bad sign. Usually Peter fights the on-call doc tooth and nail whenever he had to see him; he hates doctors. The fact he wasn't raising a fuss now...  
  
I got to the door, about to go in when what I saw froze me in my tracks. Peter was sitting on one of the massage tables, head bowed, eyes closed, quietly submitting to what the doctor was doing. The welts from Austin's belt were livid, stretching all the way across his broad back, some of them oozing blood. "Oh God," I managed to get out, my eyes filling with tears.  
  
He looked up and immediately looked away. "It's okay, Mikey," he said dully. "It looks worse than it is."  
  
I went over to him, immediately wrapping my arms around his heck and pulling him into a loose embrace. "It's not okay," I murmured, kissing his forehead. "That's the last thing this is."  
  
He didn't say anything; he just lay his head on my shoulder and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. The simple gesture nearly broke my heart; usually Peter's the one comforting me, not the other way around. And while a part of me was glad he felt secure enough in our relationship to be able to ask for help, a part of me wished he never had to.  
  
This was so wrong...  
  
Finally, the doctor finished bandaging him up. "There. Put this on for the next few days." He handed me a tube of antibiotic cream. "And I suggest you stay out of the ring until you're healed."  
  
"Trust me, doc, that won't be a problem," Peter said quietly, his eyes on the floor.  
  
I didn't like the sound of that. "Guys, could you leave us alone for a bit?" I asked, looking up at Matt and Jeff, who were standing by the door.  
  
"Sure. We have to get ready for our own promos with Kurt." Matt said as he pushed his brother toward the door. "Take care, you two." They disappeared down the hall.  
  
The doctor also packed up his kit. "I'll be down the hall if you need me," he said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
I helped Peter back into his shirt and began buttoning it. "I'm proud of you, you know," I said quietly.  
  
He stared at me. "For what? Getting my ass kicked again?"  
  
When I was done I wound my arms back around his neck, angling his head up so our eyes met. "For standing up to him," I corrected. "Everyone else is scared stiff of Austin, but you fought back."  
  
"Yeah. Lot of good it did me." I had never heard him so bitter. "Doesn't matter. After this, I've had it. I'm done."  
  
He didn't...he couldn't mean... "You don't mean quit," I said, wanting to make sure I heard him correctly.  
  
"After tonight, damn straight I do." he put his head back on my shoulder. "What happened...no one should have to..." He didn't finish.  
  
"I know," I murmured. Not more than a month ago I had been where he was now - battered, bruised and ready to pack it all in. I had spent most of that night in Peter's arms, sobbing my heart out and threatening to walk out on all my dreams. It had taken a lot of comfort and some strong words from my baby to get me back into my chair behind the announcer's table.  
  
I was more than prepared to throw those words back in his face.  
  
"If you quit, then Austin wins," I said quietly, laying my cheek against his head. "Do you want that?"  
  
"Fuck no," Peter spat out.  
  
"You've worked for almost ten years to get to where you are now," I continued. "Are you just going to throw that all away because of that redneck jackass?"  
  
"You don't understand, Mikey."  
  
"Don't I?" I whispered. "Then explain it to me."  
  
He let out a heavy sigh, but didn't say anything. Finally he lifted his head up to glare at me. "You know how much I hate it when you're right?"  
  
I couldn't help smiling. "I know."  
  
"It's just...I've never been...he fucking took me down, Mikey." He ducked his head. "In front of everybody...the other guys...the fans...he treated me like...like I was less than nothing..."  
  
"He's afraid," I said, running my hand over his shone head in an attempt to soothe. "He knows you can beat him. He just doesn't want to give you the chance to." I brushed a kiss against his temple. "You're too good a wrestler - too good a man - to let him keep you down and stand in front of your dream. And he knows it." I lifted his head up, forcing him to meet my eyes. "He'll get his someday. And you'll be the one to give it to him. I know you will."  
  
"If you tell me to bring one home for the Gipper, so help me God..." he threatened with a snarl. Under the snarl, however, I heard the affection and I laughed in spite of everything.  
  
"Better, love?" I asked, still holding him close.  
  
He shrugged. "As well as it's gonna get for now, I guess. And yeah, I'll stick it out for now." The look on his face turned pleading. "Are you done bolstering my self-esteem for the time being? Can we just get the hell out of here?"  
  
I kissed him; I couldn't resist his puppy dog look and he knew it. "Yeah, I'm done."  
  
"Good." He got down from the table. "'Cause all I want now is some peace and quiet, a beer and you." A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in Peter's dark eyes. "Not necessarily in that order."  
  
I grinned, winding my arms around his neck again. "Well, we can find the peace and quiet in our hotel room and there's beer in the fridge there," I pressed myself against him. "and you already have me."  
  
He slid his arms around my waist. "Yeah, I do, thank God," he murmured. "I love you, Mikey."  
  
"I love you, too." Our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss.  
  
I let him go reluctantly, taking his hand. "C'mon. My rental's out back." I opened the door and started to lead him out of the training room.  
  
My timing couldn't have been worse, for coming up the hall directly in our path was Stone Cold Steve Austin. "Well, well, well. Look who I found." his voice was harsh, mocking both of us. "The master of the  
suplex and his mealy-mouthed little wimp boyfriend." His cold chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. "And just where do you think you two are going?"  
  
"Back off, Austin," Peter snarled, glaring at the Rattlesnake. "There's no cameras back here.  
  
"Oh, you think I whipped your ass 'cause there was a camera on me?" He laughed. "Guess again, boy. I did it 'cause you deserved it and I did it 'cause I wanted to."  
  
Peter's hand tightened in mine as I felt him flinch at Austin's words. That flinch was what did it, I think. Austin had finally gone too far.  
  
I stepped in front of Peter, matching Austin glare for glare. "You heard him," I said, my voice hard. "Back off."  
  
"What? Did I hear someone say something?" He cupped a hand over his ear as if to listen for something. "Sounded like a little squeak from a mouse small enough to step on." he came closer, a menacing look on his face. "Go ahead, little mouse. Squeak again."  
  
I knew what he was trying to do, but I wasn't about to let him intimidate me again. Especially not in front of Peter. "I said back off," I repeated, slowly so he was sure to hear me. "You've done enough damage for one night."  
  
He stared at me, a look of astonishment on his face. He honestly couldn't believe I was facing him down. I couldn't either, to be truthful. Maybe the fact that it was Peter I was defending gave me the courage I didn't usually have. Whatever it was, I just hope it worked and he left us alone.  
  
No such luck. Astonishment turned into pure rage. "I don't think do," he said, coming even closer. "I think I've only just begun. And once I'm though with your boyfriend, I'm gonna pound your ass into this here cement floor." The WWF Championship belt was carelessly tossed aside. "Or maybe I'll just start by whipping you." He reached out to grab my hair.  
  
I evaded his grip easily. Sometimes it pays to be skinny - you move faster if you are. Before he could recover and try something else, I did the first thing that came to mind - I gave him a good hard kick right where it would hurt the most.  
  
He immediately fell to his knees, clutching his groin before falling over to his side with a sick little groan. I let a small smile of self-satisfaction come over my face; I hadn't thought it would actually work, but anger and fear are both pretty good motivators for getting it right the first time.  
  
I turned to Peter, who was staring at me in wide-eyed amazement. "Where the fuck did you learn to do that?!"  
  
I shrugged. "First thing they teach you in self-defense class. Aim for a vulnerable area." I indicated my work boots with a nod. "And these have a steel toe."  
  
He nodded, still wide-eyed. "Remind me not to piss you off. You've got a pretty good aim." He paused. "You didn't have to do that, you know."  
  
I took his hand and squeezed it, smiling. "Yes, I did. You defended me against him. It's only right I do the same." I gave him a hard kiss. "C'mon. Let's get out of here." We stepped around the still writhing Stone Cold and left the arena, together.


End file.
